


full circle

by poquito (manta)



Category: Free!
Genre: "feel again" came up on shuffle while i wrote, "i was a lonely soul but that's the old me", "i'm feeling better ever since you know me", M/M, POOL CHAN DROWN THESE FEELS, somehow it became a song i associate with makoharu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 12:01:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2507036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manta/pseuds/poquito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After all, no matter what happens or how far apart they are, Makoto will always wait for Haru at the bottom of the stairs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	full circle

**Author's Note:**

> Tiny Haru fic of moments leading up to his and Makoto's departure from Iwatobi.
> 
> This happened because I was reading High Speed! 2 and had too many feels.

The farewell party would have been small and intimate.

That is, if the entire town wasn’t enamored with Makoto. (And Haru too, by those who took the time to know him and his soft heart.)

When Nagisa adds Australia-bound Rin to the guests of honor, the already considerable turnout rises sharply.

With the attendees exceeding the swim club’s capacity, the party moves to the local park. Haru thinks he can bear with the noise just for today. But he sits near the man-made lake just in case, and his friends gravitate to him.

As Rin ruffles Gou’s hair to her indignant squawks and Sousuke’s protests, and Nagisa attempts to feed Rei something he insists isn’t _that_ sweet, Haru watches without the urge to partake.

A sensation similar to a lump in the throat overtakes him. But it goes beyond the instinct to cry, beginning in the chest and spreading until he can’t move or speak from the fullness.

Warmth runs along the length of his right arm, culminating at his palm; he doesn’t need to turn to know it’s Makoto at his shoulder, taking his hand.

His university and coach have lofty goals for him. Make a name for himself. Etch his identity in history. Reach the world’s pinnacle. Conquer the summit.

But here at his roots, surrounded by those he loves, his hand held by the one who saw him when he was nothing, Haru feels like he has everything.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Haru stacks the final box on top of a tall pile, releasing the smallest of exhales as he does so.

Makoto offered to help with some of the heavy lifting, and he will when their belongings are loaded away tomorrow. But Haru wanted to pack his things alone. It’s a systematic unravelling of the only life he’s ever known.

He’s rinsing off a washrag when he thinks to look outside the kitchen window. The stars wink here, unhindered by urban lights. Haru makes a mental note to find somewhere with a similar view when he reaches the city. Makoto can come along if he likes. He probably will.

Haru can’t see the sky properly with his lights on, and will save his last bath for the morning. So he plunges the house into darkness and leaves the screen doors open, to breathe in the ocean breeze for one more night.

 

* * *

 

 

The moving truck roars to life; the sound is foreign, grating against the tranquility that usually permeates the air. Their belongings will arrive a day after they do. The noise also kickstarts a uneasiness in Haru’s stomach.

It’s finally happening.

Haru’s used to seeing the stone steps swept free of debris, empty. But today there’s someone on each step- the twins, his and Makoto’s parents, Nagisa, Rei, Gou, Rin.

It’s crowded, and yet it’s perfect.

Fortune would have it that in pursing their individual goals, he and Makoto find themselves in Tokyo together. For the short while that their paths converge, Haru will treasure the time they have.

After all, no matter what happens or how far apart they are, Makoto will always wait for Haru at the bottom of the stairs.

"Haru," Makoto says, and his eyes droop at their usual slope. His tone is easy despite the emptiness of the rooms they’re leaving behind, like their lives aren’t changing at all, and Haru can’t help but feel reassured.

"Makoto," he answers.

If he can only have one constant, it’s the certainty that he is never lost.


End file.
